


Two Most Graceful People Ever

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dancing, F/M, Hip Hop, Reader-Insert, professor/student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 19:13:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11492874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	Two Most Graceful People Ever

There was nothing like the complete and total freedom you felt when you were dancing. At first, it had been a way to meet people, have fun and stay in shape, but now dancing was so much more to you. It was a way to decompress during the stress of classes. It was a way for you to escape whatever feelings about whoever you happened to be dating or whether or not your best friend was going to lose her scholarship because she was partying to much and was failing her classes. Dancing was freedom. And you always danced like no one was watching.

It was amazing really. Without any music or choreography to adhere to, you had absolutely no rhythm at all, but once the music started and the choreo started playing through your mind there was nothing stopping you. You started out playing random music between classes and practicing a variety of freezes, kicks and flares.

Practicing between classes had become a thing since you broke up with your boyfriend - cheating bastard. You weren’t really on the market for anyone else, but you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that showing off for one of the young professors wasn’t on your agenda. Dr. Spencer Reid taught in a number of adjunct roles in addition to his work with the FBI, and while so many of your classmates laughed at his awkward mannerisms, here on their parents’ orders with no intention of actually doing anything with their lives, you found it endearing and always enjoyed his classes. He was very passionate about what he did. Plus, he was tall, slender but not overwhelmingly muscular, with dark, deep set hazel eyes and sandy brown hair that kind of did whatever it wanted to do on any given day. And when he smiled? Fuck, you melted. It was stupid how cute he was. So of course you wanted to impress him.

It just so happened that he’d pass you during classes (ok, you knew where he taught and decided to practice outside of where his class let out, whatever) so instead of practicing random moves, you decided to practice one of your favorite dances for WTF by Missy Elliott. 

As the music started up, people gathered, as they tended to do - anything to distract them from the monotony of classes for more than two seconds. You’d perfected this choreo before - the fluidity of your movements practiced yet deliberate. You got cheers normally; people loved the faces you’d make during this song, acting a fool but with an excuse. 

The person you noticed however was Professor Reid, leaning against the building where his class had just let out. His light brown hair caught the sheen of the afternoon sun; it was almost enough to distract you - almost. But you kept moving, stealing glances at him when the angle would allow. You didn’t imagine he had much experience with this type of dance, but you figured that’s what made it more interesting for him. He was learning about something he didn’t already have knowledge of - something you assumed he craved given his three Ph.D.’s and seemingly endless pursuit of knowledge. 

Once you finished, you took a bow and told your small audience that if they had time, you’d be doing a few more dances. Stealing a glance toward Professor Reid’s building, you realized he wasn’t there anymore and sighed, until seeing him walk toward the crowd of students and meet up with a few other professors - most much older than him. 

He was probably just interested in your dancing, but you were definitely going to use this opportunity to dazzle the sexy professor if you could. Of course, you picked a dance that was slightly sexier than the last one, but still showed off your skill. 

Each time you stole a glance at the professor, he seemed fascinated, and by the end, he was clapping alongside the rest of the students; the older professors had left not that that surprised you. Most of the students dispersed as well, needing to go to class. That left you to practice a couple random moves that you needed to nail for the upcoming competition while Professor Reid watched. He sat at a nearby table and made it look like he was doing some work, but you could tell he wasn’t. 

A lot of the more difficult moves required a crazy amount of upper body strength, which you had, but only if you were doing them in short bursts. When you needed to hold them for longer…well, let’s just say you needed to work on your arms some more. Windmills and headspins were two other moves you loved, but those wouldn’t work was well on cement (ow), so you decided to work on the deadman float - so. much. stomach. and. arm. strength. required. 

Over and over again, you managed to do a planche pose, basically what you were attempting only staying still instead of moving, but getting moving was the problem. If you were able to nail it, it was more about momentum so you were able to carry it through, but if the momentum wasn’t there then you got stuck in a planche pose and you were fucked. Thankfully, you didn’t have to nail this move for the competition coming up. 

You had no idea what you did wrong, but all of a sudden you felt a muscle pull in your hand. Pushing off the ground with the opposite one, you landed badly on your foot and fell to the ground - graceful. When you looked up again, you saw the professor still there and bumbling toward you, presumably to help, only to have him trip himself. “A-Are you okay?” he asked, picking up the books that had fallen out of his hands. “I was coming over here to check on you and I tripped myself. Graceful, huh?”

“That’s what I was just thinking of myself,” you laughed. Your foot was fine, so you stood up, gently shaking out your hand; that’s what hurt. “You’d think with all of the things I’m able to do I would be able to not trip over my own two feet.”

Professor Reid finished grabbing his things and stood up to meet your gaze; he was even more beautiful up close. Wincing, you looked down at your wrist, taken off guard when the professor flipped your wrist and asked what hurt. “I think you might have the beginnings of tendonitis,” he said, no longer flustered. He seemed to become more confident when he wasn’t speaking directly to people. “I don’t know anything about dance, but I do know that out of the muscles you’re using for whatever that was,” he said, spinning his finger around above the ground, “the wrists are the weakest for pretty much everyone, so I’d give it a day or two and then do some wrist strengthening exercises so they can accept the strain you need to put on them.” When he looked up again, he instantly became flustered. “What is that move anyway?”

“It’s called the deadman float,” you said. “I can hold the position, but moving around on my wrists is absolute murder.”

He laughed as the two of you started walking toward another building. His next class was your next as well. “I don’t d-doubt it,” he said as he opened the door. “I’m lucky the FBI accepted me into the academy. It’s purely for my brain because I have little athletic skill to speak of.”

Although you were both a bit early, you walked into the classroom up a grouping of about three or so steps. The Professor’s books went flying once again as he tripped up the stairs. “Oh my god, are you okay?” you asked, kneeling down to help grab his books. 

“I’m f-fine,” he replied. “I’m just so graceful today.”

You stood up a tripped on one of his books, flying back down into the floor. “Well, that makes two of us,” you laughed.


End file.
